


Lips on You, Gorgeous

by Pmzilla



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Jealous Niccoló, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Power Play, Public Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-18 21:43:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17588972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pmzilla/pseuds/Pmzilla
Summary: “Ni. Fili’s boyfriend split on him. We are gonna be the world’s best wingmen tonight...Now - I am, according to Fili, quote ‘dressed like a proper man, not like a sacristan’ and if you need any extra motivation, I promise to dance with you all night in Enrico Palazzo’s room.”Nico hesitates, torn between letting his jealousy run freely and the desire to dance with his boyfriend...and to see what Fili decided was ‘appropriate attire’ for Marti’s first trip to a gay dance club. Curiosity (and some well-timed ‘bambi’ eyes from his boyfriend) win out, and Nico smiles as Marti tows him towards the club.Nico and Martino go clubbing with Fili at G I AM.HEED THE TAGS, per favore. We just upgraded to E - and the boys are going to have a little more fun.





	1. G I AM (Gorgeous I AM)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isitandwonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/gifts).



> There will be more graphic depictions of sex - so if you blushed at chapter one (but didn't like it), chapters two and three will not be the content you've come for.  
> For all those new to BDSM - consent is sexy and should be explicit.  
> For all those who are unfamiliar with the BPD diagnosis - it is a bit of a DSM grab-bag, a syndrome more than a specific set of symptoms and outcomes - and it presents differently in different people.

“Remind me why we have to do this?” Niccoló is not precisely whining, but it’s a near thing, as he and Martino walk hand-in-hand towards G I AM, a gay dance club.

“Excuse me, but isn’t it you who is always telling me to be more spontaneous? Or - fuck - do you have an evil twin? Because I don’t know if I can manage two of you,” Martino replies.

“But why tonight? My parents are away - we are wasting a perfectly empty apartment,” Niccoló complains.

“Look - if it weren’t for Fili - instead of taking me home to your bed - maybe a little sweaty and definitely  _ very  _ turned on from dancing with the most gorgeous man in all of Rome _ ,  _ YOU would be spending tonight with Maddalena, being regaled with true tales of pissing corpses and I would still be a closet-case in love with my best friend,” Martino shrugs.

“Wait...you had a crush on Gio?” Nico stops, pulling Martino back against him.

“Out of all of the things I just said, THAT is what you pick up on?” says an exasperated Martino, “Ni. Fili’s boyfriend split on him. We are gonna be the world’s best wingmen tonight...Now - I am, according to Fili, quote ‘dressed like a proper man, not like a sacristan’ and if you need any extra motivation, I promise to dance with you all night in Enrico Palazzo’s room.”

Nico hesitates, torn between letting his jealousy run freely and the desire to dance with his boyfriend...and to see what Fili decided was ‘appropriate attire’ for Marti’s first trip to a gay dance club. Curiosity (and some well-timed ‘bambi’ eyes from his boyfriend) win out, and Nico smiles as Marti tows him towards the club. 

The line is miles long, fortunately the bouncer is a classmate of Fili’s and quickly waves them in. As they pass the line, Marti unbuttons his coat. Nico hears someone say, “It’s like this every Saturday - you either have to blow the bouncer or be tarted up in leather jeans and holding hands with Michelangelo's David to pass the line after 21:00.”  _ Leather jeans?  _ Nico looks down at Marti, to see tight black leathers ending in low-rise Frye motorcycle boots.

Once inside, Nico pulls the coat away from Martino’s body and stares.

“ _ Che cos'è questo? _ Where did you get these?” Nico’s hands grasp Marti’s waist, running over the smooth leather.

Marti blushes to the roots of his red hair, “Ah...well...let’s just say they are vintage, yeah?” He smooths his hand down over a dark blue t-shirt that is a bit tight, because it belongs to Niccoló, “ _ Merda _ , is it okay? Do I look bad?”

Nico’s mouth is dry, “No. You look insanely hot...and I’m going to have to kill anyone who touches you, which may get messy - because who wouldn’t want to run their hands all over you in those skin-tight leather jeans? Madonna!”

Marti gives Nico a very private grin, “Whatever…’ _ Michelangelo's David’...  _ Lucky for me that no one will even notice you or that poor t-shirt struggling to contain your shoulders,” Marti teases. A completely ripped, shirtless guy passes Nico and looks him up and down, shamelessly, “ _ Cazzo  _ \- maybe this was a bad idea!”

But before they have a chance to grab their jackets and run, an already drunk Fili stumbles into the hallway. Fili’s hair is a reasonable barometer of his moods, and instead of the frosty blonde of this afternoon, he is over-dyed a brilliant pink...but his stubble is still scruffy.  _ Trying to power through it, tonight,  _ Marti thinks, as he calls out, “Fili! Filippo...ay,....Jack!”

Fili turns and takes in the boys with a comprehensive glance, “Rose! My Rose - Jesus, how are the two of you gonna be my wingmen? Nico - we already knew would be hot enough to cause heart failure, but -  _ che cazzo è questo, mio caro Rose?  _ When I approved your outfit, it was only jeans and that t-shirt. Look at you in those leathers!  _ Jesu’Maria - _ one look at you and half the perverts in this club will be on their knees, ready to call you ‘daddy’,” Fili drapes himself around Marti. Nico bristles and takes up Fili’s other side, guiding them into a room filled with dancers.

The main room is much like any other nightclub, with a huge dance floor and a fairly sizable stage at one end. The DJ booth is elevated, like the altar at Mass, and Nico is jumping up and down like an excited puppy to see who is in it. He keeps a grip on Marti’s shoulders as they wade out onto the floor. 

* * *

The DJ plays a remix of “Gas Pedal” and the floor fills up immediately. Marti is a better dancer than Fili would have guessed - as long as he is in contact with his Greek god of a boyfriend.  _ Talk about beginner’s luck, Dio.  _ Niccoló’s white t-shirt might as well have been painted on, hanging off of shoulders so broad... _ Madonna.  _ But Marti is the real shock of the evening. In 100 years, Fili wouldn’t have guessed that Marti had this leather-pants-and-moto-boots look in him. It was scorchingly hot - very punk rock - and not at all like the rest of his buttoned-to-the-neck, shapeless hoodie wardrobe.  _ Lucky Niccoló.  _ Perhaps Fili’s American friend was right, that still waters run deep. He only knows that, were he on the receiving end of the look that Marti is giving Nico right now, it would bring him to his knees in the middle of this dance club.

* * *

By this time, Nico thinks he should, perhaps, know better than to be surprised by Marti. Always buttoned-up, in control - tonight his ‘Elio’ looks powerful, and just a bit dangerous. Those pants - mother of god - how did he find a pair that fit him so closely? Even his dancing is far more uninhibited than Nico would have thought possible - especially out in public, in a crowd. Niccoló’s temperature rises as Marti gives him a look - if they were not in a public place, if they were studying in his bedroom or driving to Gio’s lake house in Bracciano, Niccoló would have pulled to the side of the road and done literally anything Martino would ask of him. And Nico is fairly certain that he is not the only one who has noticed. Fili keeps on looking at Marti, like he thinks this soft-lipped sex god is a mirage. Four other men -  _ that he noticed, anyway -  _ had given Marti such a complete appraisal that Nico felt an indescribable urge to just punch them. Fortunately, they all moved along and allowed the three boys to dance together until a handsome, older-but-built man moves in, just barely touching Marti. Nico grabs his boyfriend and pulls him in close against his body. The guy takes the hint, and doesn’t seem too disappointed to dance with Filippo through the next song.

None of this seems to phase Martino, and damn it if that isn’t the sexiest part of it all?  _ The minute you look away, there will be four men trying to take your place - but for all that, he doesn’t even glance at anyone else, and looks at you like you hung the stars,  _ Nico almost feels guilty - Marti has never had another boyfriend; he deserves someone so much better, but Nico will hold on to him with everything he has, because Marti makes him feel seen and safe - even happy. No matter what. 

“ _ Cuore mio -  _ shall I get us a drink?” Nico asks Martino. 

Martino nods, then steps up to Fili, “No - no more booze for you, Fili. Water. One moment,  _ caro? _ ,” and Marti pulls Nico into an open-mouthed kiss as though he were going away for a month, and not just to the bar 10 feet away. Nico is left breathless, gripping Martino body to stay upright. Fili’s dance partner moved on, so Nico reluctantly relinquishes his stranglehold on Marti’s belt loops, and allows Filippo to slip in between them. 

“Marti, Marti, Marti...do you remember, that first night on Gay Street...when I said I didn’t want to have sex with you, even if you were Tom Hardy? Now I think you bear him some resemblance, especially around the mouth,” Fili dances closely with Martino, who is rolling his eyes. 

Nico sighs and resolves to charm his way to the bar and back to his man as quickly as possible. Young and handsome as he is, Nico parts the line at the bar like the Red Sea and before too long, he heads back towards Marti and Fili, drinks in hand. He finds Filippo first.

Fili is dancing - if you can call it dancing - pressed chest-to-front with a muscular Sicilian. Dark hair, olive skin, and blindingly white teeth - which Nico only notices because they are sinking into Fili’s shoulder. He shakes his head and hands Fili a bottle of water, hoping that their wingman duties have been discharged. Which leaves him time to focus on Marti, who is now being chatted up by a dancer in a red speedo and...sleeves. No shirt, just sleeves. When the dancer’s hand brushes against the front of Marti’s pants, under the pretense of leaning in, Nico goes from smiling to insanely jealous in the span of a heartbeat. Fortunately, Marti lights up when he sees Nico pushing through the crowd. The dancer is not precisely put off when Marti introduces Nico as his boyfriend, but one savage look from Nico has him backing away with a polite smile and wave.

“I can’t leave you for a second,” Nico pulls Marti against him.

“Surely you aren’t jealous of Alessandro?”

“You know his name?”

“He introduced himself!”

“I told you this was a horrible idea,” Nico’s hands slide proprietarily over Marti’s leather-clad ass.

“Ha! Don’t I know it. I was watching your trip to the bar - there isn’t a man in this place who wasn’t checking you out. The bartender practically did a backflip to serve you...but you didn’t even notice,” Martino leans against Nico, “How did I get so lucky that the most handsome man in all of Rome only has eyes for me, eh?”

“Well, to start with...those leather jeans,,” Nico pushes his hands into Marti’s back pocket.

“Oh, you like these?” Marti teases.

“ _ Mamma mia...fighissimo _ ,” Nico agrees.

“I think we are discharged from our duty as wingmen,” Marti gestures towards Fili, who has moved on from dancing and is now kissing the Sicilian up against the wall. 

“Looks like…”

Marti pulls Nico closer. His hand slides behind Nico’s neck and they press their foreheads together. The music feels urgent, the lights flash red then blue. Marti - who is normally much more hesitant about directing Nico’s movements - has one hand lodged in Nico’s curls and the other sliding down his back and palming his ass...he aligns their hips and rocks into Nico. 

“Marti, can we go?” Nico brings their intertwined hands to the seam of his jeans. Marti doesn’t answer, but grips tighter and leads Nico through the crowd. The lights strobe and a particularly dirty remix of  **U Do** plays.

The club has many dark corners; Marti finds an empty banquette and slides in, pulling Nico down next to him. His hands lace through Nico’s perfect hair. Nico leans against him, caressing Marti through the supple leather.  _ No underwear, either.  _ Nico can read Marti’s intention - the situation is risky, and the adrenaline rush gets Niccoló hard. His normally sweet, gentle, lovely boy looks like a dangerous, dominant punk and Marti handles Nico’s body like he owns it: biting his collar bone and mapping the veins of Nico’s throat with his tongue. Martino shoves Nico further back into the corner. He pops the button on Nico’s jeans and slips his hand inside.

“Ah, Marti!”

“Shhhh...let me take care of you,  _ amore.” _ Marti slides to his knees and quickly takes Nico in his mouth. Nico spreads his legs as far as his jeans will allow him, to give them room. His hand settles in Martino’s curls as he works Nico’s cock. It is not his first time getting head from Marti, but this is no hesitant attempt while his mother sleeps two doors down. This is masterful. Niccoló leans back to appreciate the visual of Martino’s lips stretched over him, his bedroom eyes at half-mast, on his knees in tight leather jeans and staring up at Nico like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. Marti moves off his cock to mouth at his balls and Nico loses control. He comes all over his t-shirt, with a drawn out, “Fuuuucccckk!” Marti catches the last spurts on his tongue, then kisses Nico - pushing his shirt up over his chest and pulling it off to wipe his mouth.

Martino stands, and Nico rubs his face against the leather covering his lover’s hard length. The smell of leather mixes with Marti’s sweat and sex, leaving Nico panting. Before anything can proceed, one of the staff comes over to clear away some glasses in a very pointed fashion. 

“Take me home, Ni” Marti pulls out his mobile and sends a quick text to Fili, and then the boys go to collect their coats. Marti balls Nico’s shirt up in his pocket, and wraps his scarf twice around his boyfriend’s neck to keep him warm.


	2. Self-Control

Marti’s lips are pressed tight as he and Niccoló walk through Rome’s deserted streets. Nico knows this look - there is something Martino is not saying, something he is holding back from Niccoló.

“Okay..Marti, out with it.”

“What?”

“With whatever you have been not saying for the past 2 blocks...I swear, I can actually hear you fretting,” Nico grins.

“Okay,” Martino says slowly, “...it’s just - I’ve been thinking - you...you almost never let me do what we just did...really, like...ever. And there are other things we might do - in the apartment, all by ourselves for a whole long weekend - but I wonder if you would let me, Ni?”

“You don’t like my hands...or my mouth on you?” Niccoló slows his steps.

Marti takes Nico by both hands, “I love every single thing we have done together - truly. But I want to be able to give you the same pleasure that you always give me, and you rarely ever let me so much as touch you. I thought maybe you didn’t like it - or maybe, maybe I wasn’t good at it...but I think it’s pretty clear from tonight that that’s not true. I wanted to be sure”.

“Marti...it’s hard for me to...let down my guard, to lose control,” Nico says nervously.

“But tonight you  _ weren’t _ in control,” Marti gauges Nico’s expression, “....and I think there is a part of you that liked that. And there is a part of me that wants it...wants to hold on for both of us. Allow you to let go… It turns me on. But..do you feel the same?”

“I want to say I hate feeling out of control - like,” Niccoló pauses, as though the next words are difficult to say, “...like in Milano...but when I have an episode like that - sort of, sub-manic high? It feels amazing - like nothing will ever go wrong, energizing, perfect...but then I go too far, I hurt people - I hurt you…”

Martino hesitates, carefully considering his next words,“...but instead of _ losing  _ control, what if you turned control over...to me? Leave me in charge of your body...of your pleasure.”

He considers it. When Marti took charge in the club, Niccoló experienced an adrenaline rush...that razor’s edge of pleasure and danger overwhelmed him in the best way. It felt dangerous and exciting - never frightening...Nico felt secure in the knowledge that Martino would keep him safe. 

“I want to give you that - maybe not every time we make love - but tonight?” Nico is silent and Marti is nervous that he overstepped, “Or - perhaps we are too new? That sort of exchange requires a lot of trust…”

“Marti - there is nothing, and no one, that I trust as I trust you,  _ vita mia _ ,” Niccolo kisses Marti’s palm then presses it to his bare chest - to his heart - under his coat.

Martino pulls Nico into an embrace, kissing his lips, his neck. Nico whispers, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay...tonight,” Niccoló smiles, “tonight we can try this...experiment. But can I ask you for something?”   
“Anything, Ni. Absolutely anything,” Marti replies.

Nico looks directly in his eyes,“I want you to tie me down”. 

Martino’s eyes are naturally dark, but Nico can tell that his pupils have just blown as wide. Marti swallows, “Yeah, we could do that.”

The rest of their walk through Rome back to Niccoló’s apartment is punctuated by pauses in dark alleyways and - just once - against a lamppost right out in the open. Nico, strolling the streets shirtless underneath his coat, feels reckless. They take a shortcut, via “Gay Street” and Nico wraps his legs around Martino as though they were going to fuck right there against a fence near the Colosseum. Marti’s hands sneak under Nico’s coat and twist his nipples but then he withdraws.

“You are stopping...Why are you stopping?” Niccoló moans.

“Call me crazy, but I don’t find hypothermia sexy,” Marti nips at the skin under Nico’s ear, “and you are not even wearing a shirt”.

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“Yours. Definitely yours. I had a plan for you - you...surprised me,” Marti blushes.

“Marti... _ Elio Mio... _ are you blushing? Because the sight of you on your knees for me was so overwhelming that I came too quickly for your ‘plans’? Shouldn’t I be the one blushing?” Niccoló teases.

“ _ Cazzo _ , you have to stop talking like that, or…,” Marti attempts to disentangle himself from Nico’s legs.

“...or what?” Nico kisses along Martino’s jawbone.

Marti pulls Nico back by the hair, “Home. Now, Ni. And I’ll make another promise”.

“What promise?”

Marti grins, “That I will make every single, solitary minute of waiting worth your while, many times over,” he kisses Nico with each word.

“ _ Vabbé _ , you seem very sure of yourself,” Niccoló slides his legs down, but still hangs on to Marti’s chest.

“ _ Certo _ . Did you see these pants? C’mon. Didn’t you say that we have a whole apartment to ourselves?”

“Me? No. Must have been my evil twin,” Niccoló laughs.

“Fuck - there really are two of you?” Marti and Nico continue their stroll, hand-in-hand.


	3. I Wanna Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nico’s apartment is quiet, the boys hang their coats in the front hall, which leaves Niccoló shirtless._  
>  “Are you hungry? Or…,” Martino is on Nico before he can finish his sentence.  
> Nico’s hands run over Marti’s ass, pulling them closer and closer until Marti can lift Nico and start a dirty grind against the living room wall, “Jesus - you are so beautiful,” Martino wraps Nico’s legs around his waist.  
> “Take me to bed, please,” Nico releases him and walks backwards into his room, pulling Martino in his wake.  
> Martino brings water bottles into their bedroom and evaluates the bed. Someday, if this works, he will buy lengths of dark rope that will glitter against Nico’s pale skin like snakes. For tonight, Marti plans on taking advantage of Nico’s astounding collection of leather belts - you would never guess he is such a clothes horse. Marti smiles, “Lay down, arms above your head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me on my first foray into SKAM fandom. I love chatting in the comments! Or on Tumblr, I'm [Meta-Lock](meta-lock.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
>  

Nico’s apartment is quiet, the boys hang their coats in the front hall, which leaves Niccoló shirtless.

“Are you hungry? Or…,” Martino is on Nico before he can finish his sentence. 

Nico’s hands run over Marti’s ass, pulling them closer and closer until Marti can lift Nico and start a dirty grind against the living room wall.

“Jesus - you are so beautiful,” Martino wraps Nico’s legs around his waist.

“Take me to bed, please,” Nico releases him and walks backwards into his room, pulling Martino in his wake. 

Martino brings water bottles into their bedroom and evaluates the bed. Someday, if this works, he will buy lengths of dark rope that will glitter against Nico’s pale skin like snakes. For tonight, Marti plans on taking advantage of Nico’s astounding collection of leather belts - you would never guess he is such a clothes horse. Marti smiles, “Lay down, arms above your head.” 

Martino stands at the foot of the bed and strips off his shirt. The past few months with Nico have prompted additional trips to the gym - and Martino’s shoulders have started to fill out. His belly is toned from a summer of football and extra crunches with Coach. There is an audible intake of breath when Nico looks at him.

“ _ Elio _ \- you look too good to be real,” Nico runs his hands over Martino’s body - lingering on his chest. Martino preens a bit - but he knows where he must be now. With several belts in hand, Martino straddles Nico - he pushes him back on the bed, “Bring your wrists together,” Martino instructs. He wraps the belt around each wrist, binding them together. When he is finished and Nico is bound from elbow to wrist, Marti takes another belt and straps Nico to the headboard, “Wiggle your fingers? Not too tight?”

“No,” Nico’s breathing has picked up - someplace between excitement and panic.

“Hey. It’s okay. Tell me if you want me to release you? Don’t muscle through anything, you hear me?” Marti brushes his fingers over Nico’s eyebrows and down past his cheekbones to the edge of his mouth. He is surprised when Nico captures his thumb between his lips and sucks hard. Marti grabs his lower jaw, “Behave. Ask for what you want.”

Nico twists, testing the strength of the belt binding him, “My jeans - please baby, open my jeans? You make me so hard, Marti”.

Martino kisses Nico, his lips passionate and demanding, then slides down his body. Kneeling on the bed between Nico’s knees, he takes his time popping the button, then running his hands over the flies before releasing the zipper. Nico’s cock is trapped by the tight jeans. Martino mouths over the tip through the rough fabric, holding Nico’s hips down. Nico wriggles. Martino threatens him, “Don’t make me have to tie your legs, too. Be still.” 

Nico quietens. Martino looks up with pleased smile, “ _ Michelangelo's David  _ \- if Michelangelo saw you, he would never sculpt anything else - both God and Adam would bear your likeness - and poets would write about it. When I see you laid out here for me, I’m lost...I want to make you mine, inside and out,” he grabs the waist of Nico’s jeans, “May I?”

“Yes!!”

Marti roughly pulls everything off of the beautiful man under him. He uses his leather-clad legs to push Nico open, runs his hands up and down Nico’s legs from ankle to inner thigh - avoiding all of the places where Nico would like to be touched most. He follows his hands with wet kisses: on the inside of Nico’s ankle, behind the knee, tongue trailing to the hairless skin of his inner thighs until Nico is shaking with want. 

Marti is hardly unaffected. He rubs his cock, still encased in leather, against Nico’s knee as he suck welts into crease between Nico’s pelvis and hip. 

“I want to suck you off.”

“Do it”

Martino settles in, running his tongue up from the root of his lover’s cock. Now he pays attention to only the tip, then without warning, he holds one then the other of Nico’s balls in his mouth. He devours the sounds coming from the top of the bed - where Nico is chanting an amazing mix of profanity, prayer, and Martino’s name. Nico holds himself up as far as the tether allows, tightening his stomach muscles so that he can watch Martino. Marti pulls him back down by yanking Nico’s thighs up over his shoulders. His tongue moves behind Nico’s hot and heavy balls and trails spit over his hole. 

“Marti!” Nico yells urgently.

“Can I,  _ amore _ ? Please?” Martino waits, breathing against the most intimate places in Nico’s body.

Nico pulls at his bound arms, as though he wants to cover his face - but desire is stronger, “Yes,” he whispers.

Martino moves so gently, circling the tightened muscle with his tongue, pressing against the knot, unraveling it carefully. He watches, fascinated, as Nico comes apart under his attentions.

Nico thrashes against the pleasure overriding every synapse,“Marti - come up here.”

Martino instantly obeys, wiping his mouth against his arm, “Are you okay? Are the restraints uncomfortable?”

Marti holds himself over Nico’s body, “they are fine, I just wanted to see your eyes, _ Elio mio _ . I want you to see...to understand how very much I want this,” Nico strains up to kiss Martino’s lips, “I want to feel you inside me. I want to be as close to you as I can be to another person,” Nico trembles at Marti’s touch.

“I..I should untie you,” Marti whispers in a voice roughened by desire.

“You don’t have to”.

“I want to - the first time we...I want your hands on me, too.”

“Okay”

Martino unbuckles the belt from around Nico’s arms, rubbing the impression of the leather away and kissing his wrists tenderly. Nico reaches into his bedside table, handing Martino lube and a condom. Marti raises his eyebrow.

“Just in case I became a raging animal - I didn’t want logistics to prevent me from having you,” Nico teases.

“Would you rather...?”

“No. I want it like this. I want it to be you,” Nico says lightly, but Marti can see the intensity behind his words.

“How do you…,” Marti pauses to collect himself, then he takes control, “I’m going to open you further.”

Nico nods, and pulls Marti down into a kiss. The lube clicks open, and Nico can feel cool pressure between his legs. Martino is so careful; he treats Nico like he is something precious - circling, dipping inside with his fingers while his lips and tongue make love to Nico’s. Nico is soon grinding against Marti’s thigh.

“Shit - I’m going to ruin your jeans!”

“Fuck my jeans,” Marti swears, Nico’s hands fumble for the button, stroking over Marti’s cock until he grabs Nico’s wrist, “only open them.”

Nico digs his hands into the leathers, exposing Martino. Martino shoves them to his thighs, and returns to fingering Nico with renewed purpose.

One finger, then two disappear into Nico - stretching him. After three, Nico begs for Martino’s cock and to emphasize the point, rips open the condom with his teeth and with shaky hands, rolls it on to Martino.

They pause, forehead to forehead, as though to remind each other that this, too, is just them -  _ Marti-Nico. _

Martino places himself against Nico’s entrance and the entire world stops for just a heartbeat. Marti moves so slowly, advancing by millimeters into Nico’s yielding flesh. He is almost grateful for the constant tease of this evening - because it allows him to last through this miraculous sensation. The love of his life dilates around his body. And when he finally bottoms out, Nico holds him, whispering, “Stay...stay, inside me. Don’t move, not yet,” and Martino can feel Nico’s pulse, he is surrounded by his tight heat - but he remains suspended above Nico’s body, waiting.

Nico adjusts his legs around Marti’s waist and nods. 

The first movement is just slow circling - trying to understand the physics of it. After a few experimental thrusts, Marti pulls Nico’s left leg on to his shoulder, deepening the penetration and changing the angle. The new angle does something to Nico, who groans so wantonly that Marti stops moving - afraid that he has somehow hurt him.

“ _ Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo _ \- right there,  _ right  _ there - don’t you dare stop moving!” Nico digs his nails into Martino, pulling himself against his chest. Marti begins to pick up speed, snapping his hips harder against Nico in an erratic pattern. 

Nico is beginning to feel as though something wonderful is just out of reach. He shakes his head and tries to focus on the scent of Martino, laced with leather. He watches as sweat covers Marti’s broad chest and slides down the mouthwatering line from his abs to his hips and listens to his normally quiet boyfriend making involuntary sounds as he slams in and out of the pliant heat of Nico’s body. But it is still not enough.

“ _ Amore _ , I can’t…,” Marti pauses mid-thrust and looks at Nico like he’s just started speaking Arabic, “Help me get out of my head.”

Martino swallows hard and nods. He manhandles Nico’s hips until they are propped up on a pillow, and aligning himself once more, he shoves into Nico’s body - knocking him back against the mattress. Nico’s arms bounce next to his head and Marti lowers on to his elbows and pins Nico’s forearms against the bed. Their new position presses Nico’s cock between their bellies, where the motion of Marti’s body brushes against it in a tantalizing way. Nico tries to fight off Marti’s hold, but Martino quickly realizes that Nico also does not want to win. He is reveling in Marti’s quiet strength. 

Suddenly, the white-hot rush of orgasm seems very close at hand. Nico moans as Martino drives against him, “Marti, Marti, ah, ah, aaaah,” Martino bites down at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The pain is the last ingredient Nico needs; his entire body is flooded with sensation - radiating out from deep within him. Marti gasps as Nico clamps down tightly on his cock. He grinds through Nico’s orgasm, as if to fuse their bodies completely. His whole frame is shaking and when Nico’s body grips his through yet another aftershock, Marti comes, pulsing deep within his lover’s body. When they both finally still, Martino collapses over Nico. Nico’s hands pet the length of Marti’s back, calming him. 

 

Slowly, Martino lifts himself and withdraws from Nico’s body; he ties up the condom and tosses it away.  Nico burrows into Martino’s chest - heedless of the sticky mess of come and lube between them. Marti wipes them down with a discarded t-shirt, then checks Nico’s wrists and neck again, pressing his lips against the bruises he finds there. Nico shivers.

“That was…,” Martino pauses, “I imagined what that might be like, but tonight exceeded all of my imaginings - ten times over,” he whispers into Nico’s curls.

“I...I never thought that I could feel that way,” Nico sighs.

“Which way?”

“Like all the noise inside my head shut off - I’m safe and whole and well - like we are the last men on earth and you are my whole world, and it is just...perfect,” Nico slides his hands proprietarily over Martino’s ass and pulls him closer. The zipper from Marti’s jeans digs into his hip. Reluctantly, he peels the leather down over Marti legs. He straddles Martino’s waist while he admires the lines of his body.

“They are so soft - and they fit you like gloves - these must have cost a fortune,” Nico grips Martino between his knees as he leans over to cast the jeans on to his desk chair,“That’s not like you - you are supposed to be the practical one”.

“Out of the two of us? I am boring practicality? Oh, thank you.”

“About money? Yes. One of us has to be - and I think I’ve proven that it is definitely not going to be me”.

“Do you like them?”

“Do I like them? I am only allowing you to catch your breath because that was the most spectacular orgasm of my entire life,” Nico collapses dramatically on to Marti’s chest. Marti can tell from the way that Nico is slurring his words that his boyfriend will be asleep within minutes, but he humours him.

“High praise,” Marti hands Nico a bottle of water from the dresser, “Will you find them sexy no matter where they came from?”

Nico perks up a little, “Did you mug an old lady outside the Vatican for them?”

“No!” Marti watches Nico settle against his chest again. He looks at him expectantly, “Okay...You remember how my father left all of those boxes at our house? He never came to get them. Well - my mother and I decided to take it all to the second-hand shop this week, because fuck him. Apparently - around when they met in university - my dad had a motorcycle and these pants. We have a similar build so…” Nico is giggling uncontrollably, “Have I completely ruined this look for you?”

“Hmmmmm….no, I wouldn’t say that,” Nico purrs, “I’m just going to have to buy you the motorbike now, to complete the look.” 

 


End file.
